Sunday, March 22, 2009



I was driving up on Mullholland at night recently. A clear night when you can see miles of the cities twinkling lights, each one representing the dreams of Angelenos. I rolled the windows down to let in the cool night air scented with a mixture of jasmine and pine. I turned up the volume on the radio, hoping to bring back the feeling I’d had ten years ago on this same road. But ten years had passed and sadly so had that optimistic enthusiasm. 

When I first moved out here and started working as a PA I became familiar with Mullholland Drive as a way to get from the valley ‘over the hill’. I remembered feeling like I was on top of the world, and that someday I was going to be a somebody in Hollywood. People were going to know who I was, I’d be in demand, a mover and a shaker. 

I used to look out at all the city lights with a powerful faith which was absent from this recent drive on Mullholland. I left LA nine months after I’d moved here to take care of my mother who was dying of cancer. The death of a parent will change the way you see city lights forever. When I came back to LA I was lost. I couldn’t be a PA anymore. The last job was pretty miserable and I figured I’d be less miserable if I went back to waiting tables, the lesser of the two evils. It took me a long time to finally listen to the voice inside that had been telling me to be a writer since I was twelve years old.

Lately though there’s a voice of doubt bringing up the question of whether or not I should keep pursuing this dream. It’s been three years of serious effort and nothing has come to fruition. It seems cruel that just when I contemplate abandoning the dream, I’d get a smidgen of positive feedback which would fuel me for a few more weeks. But sometimes I think I’m running on empty.

On this recent drive, the curves of Mullholland twisted through my disappointment and my tired eyes looked out upon the city lights with sadness for all the people who are trying to shine brightly and perhaps no one will ever see their light. I don’t want to be the light that no one sees. I suppose I’m having my own personal energy crisis and each morning I dip into the reserves to keep going another day.

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